


Love is a Choice -

by Nocturne1980



Category: Black Panther (2018), Black Panther (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Future, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Breeding, Colonization, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Feels, New Planets, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Scientist Shuri (Marvel), Secret Crush, shitty contracts, should have read the fine print, soldier Erik Killmonger
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:02:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29801949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nocturne1980/pseuds/Nocturne1980
Summary: On a new planet, Shuri is faced with an unexpected role. She agreed to go on the one-way trip because she was trying to escape heartache on Earth. She believed she would live out the rest of her days working as a scientist helping a fledgling colony thrive. What she learns once she arrives is that she has signed a lifelong contract that involves marriage to a man of the government’s choosing for the purpose of populating the new world.That man turns out to be the asshole passenger she’s had several unlucky run-ins with during her passage to the new planet.Erik disdains the elite scientists who call all the shots. While he could have become one of them, he chose the life of a soldier. He’s used to giving orders as a general but he’s used to taking them as well. That’s why when he is ordered to marry the know-it-all scientist he doesn’t hesitate. It has nothing to do with how perfect he finds her.
Relationships: Erik Killmonger/Shuri
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

More to come...


	2. Chapter 2

Waking up from cryo-sleep was never a pleasant experience.

“General Stevens.”

Sound filtered through as if he were submerged in a great depth of water, which wasn’t too far from the clear goop he lay in. Muscles twitched as life was jolted back into them, currents easily navigating the goop without searing skin or frying delicate organs.

His eyelids were bricks and he was powerless to lift them.

“General Stevens.” The voice called his name once more. Or maybe it was for the third time. Hell, it could have been for the one-hundred time and Erik wouldn’t know the difference. His mind was fuzzy from endless dreams and something else. Oh yeah, the cryo-meds. They worked a number on those put under. While they worked simultaneously to preserve muscle and tissue, in all the years of humanity's advancement they had yet to perfect the technique so it didn’t dampen cognitive function upon wakening.

Interestingly, the more you were put under the easier it got to wake up. But that first initial wakening was so jarring that few wanted to go under a second time.

Erik blinks against the harsh artificial lights, lazily focusing on the face leaning over him. This is his fifth time going under. Or maybe it’s his sixth. He’d figure it out later when cryo-meds flush out his system and he isn’t so damned out of it. At least he isn’t howling in terror like had the first time they brought him from under.

This time a pretty tech smiles down at him, her pristine white uniform just as gleaming as the awe clearly painted on her face once his eyes are able to fully focus. For a moment he can’t recall why anyone would look at him with such wonder. Then it comes to him in fleeting images of a past that made the history books.

“Welcome back General Stevens,” she says when he no longer blinks but keeps his eyes trained on her face. “You have arrived safely on New Wakanda 3 in the year is 5671, C.E. The archives are ready for you to zip whenever you are ready.”

“Zip?” His voice creaks.

“Ah, I’m sorry. Download. Updates to the standard language will be included in your zip—download. Is there anything you require before be commence?”

Another drawback of cryo. After waking up it was necessary to become familiar with all that was missed while under. The fastest way to do this was by imputing the decades of missed information directly into the brain via a ghost port. The technology was dated before Erik went under. It wasn’t painless either. But he was a soldier. He’d endured worse.

“I’m ready.” He settles back into the goop and steels himself for what’s to come, adrenaline awakening with the expectation of agony. He keeps his eyes open because he has never once in all his years of living faced an adversary with them closed. Pain was a familiar enemy.

The tech cleared her throat to gain his attention before awkwardly continuing. “You must stand for the transfer, General.” She stepped away from the pod to give him space.

He moved with a sluggishness common to his condition but there was strength there. He looked down at himself and watched the goop slid down his skin to the floor. The tech blushed when his feet were planted firmly on the floor and he stood before her in only remnants of cryo-goop, the ritual scars from a life far removed from the present on full display.

Erik lost all modesty before he was given his first rank. The military had conditioned it out of him. His body was just a vessel to accomplish a mission. A weapon, just like his mind. If he weren’t so numb from the cryo-meds he might be amused by the young woman’s obvious discomfort at his nudity. But she was a cryo-tech so she had to be used to seeing people without their clothes. It was the scars then. They always made civilians uneasy. They were a physical reminder that once, not so long ago war and death were as common as disease and famine. When they last put him under these things were only seen in lessons taught to children. Men and women like Erik were relics of a time only remember so it wouldn’t be repeated.

But without men and women like Erik, this future wouldn’t be possible. The science worshiping elites didn’t like to admit it. They’d like to pretend advancement was only made by the will of their insufferable egos.

The tech’s eyes lingered over his scars, making an attempt to count them, no doubt and processing that each raised dot signified a life he had taken. Not that the dark tradition was practiced for at least a century. This information was in the archives. Erik vaguely wondered if they were all still vegan or had the passing of time changed that self-righteous cultural norm.

When her eyes darted to his and she realized he watched her ogling him she cleared her throat again and apologized. She then raised her palm up and a holo screen expanded from the beaded bracelet on her wrist.

“Look at the blue dot in the center please.”

Erik obeyed her instruction, focusing on a grape-sized circle on the holo screen. Once his eyes were locked on it, it began pulsing with a steady rhythm, speed increasing the longer he stared. A gentle warmth seemed to emanate from the source straight to the back of his skull. It wasn’t unpleasant but it was such an odd sensation that he had to fight the instinct to cut his eyes away. The pulsing continued to pick up speed until it felt as if he were no longer viewing the circle but instead a white endless void.

A sound similar to paper ripping ended the experience and he saw once more just a blue dot, no longer pulsing. He blinked. Once, twice, and then information raced to fill in spaces of thought like puzzle pieces falling securely into place.

“So that’s why it’s called _zip_.” He mused to himself. The tech nodded a little smile.

They were still vegans, only worse. It was discovered that trees are sentient so people no longer picked fruit or nuts from them, collecting only what dropped willingly for their consumption.

He twisted his head to the side as if popping his neck could alleviate the strangeness of receiving so much new information in such a short span of time. The tech was trying to hand him something but he ignored her as he meditated quietly through the knowledge, eyes facing forward, unseeing but seeing. When he finally looked down he saw that she was trying to give him a robe. He took it in hand but made no move to put it on.

“We will reach New Wakanda 3 in approximately five days. You were put under before most of the passengers on board. They will not be as—er—comfortable with nudity as people of your time. You will need to remain clothed at all times when in public.”

People of his time? Erik had been put into cryo far too many times for people of his time to still be in existence. If there were more than a handful still around from his original era he would be truly surprised. He considered her words as he slipped the robe on, the material sticking to his goop slick skin. The people of his era had not been hedonistic but he supposed it would seem that way to her considering what he has just learned of current cultures.

“Are there any communications for me?” He asked. It was his ritual after wakening. Get the messy stuff out of the way first before focusing on the present mission. The past was always messy, no matter how neatly he tried to leave it.

“Yes, several. I’ll show you to your quarters and you can review them there.” She handed him a pair of slippers. Once he had them on his feet he followed her lead out of the awakening chamber.

The ship’s hallway was just as pristine and white as the room he left. Whoever had prepared his zip made sure to include the ship's blueprint. As he followed her he took in the ship’s structure and compared it to the deeper knowledge now anchored in his brain. It was a massive vessel capable of comfortably transporting a quarter of a million people. A colony ship that was never meant to make a return voyage. By the time it returned back to Earth it would be considered ancient anyway.

This would be his last move. There were no more wars to fight. Hadn’t been for a long time now and it took his last awakening to realize he was fooling himself to think the worlds had a use for a man like him anymore. It was time to adapt, to become something more. Those he’d served with during the last great war had made their own peace with the paradigm shift. They retired from service to start families and build lives that didn’t involve orders and blood and death. He might be traveling with some of their descendants on this very ship.

Remaining on Earth wasn’t an option. So he took the opportunity to leave when it was presented to him. On New Wakanda 3 he wouldn’t be useless. It was a new world that needed infrastructures established and he would be a part of that. The military had settled quite a bit of credits in his coffers during his service. He was a very wealthy man and for all appearances, he still had health and vitality on his side. He could lead a long and quiet life on New Wakanda 3. Maybe work out some of his demons.

A scream ripped through the air, bringing him back to the present. It curled and echoed like it came from inside an open door. He stopped in his tracks, the tech continued walking as if hearing such sounds of suffering were as commonplace as air in lungs. There was a pause of silence and then another scream just as jarring as the first.

The agony of that sound brought back memories he didn’t want to revisit but he forced himself to wade through without resisting. Resisting is what drove you crazy, made your mind crack. The screaming didn’t stop and he found his feet carrying him to its source. Backtracking to an open door a few meters away.

It was a room like the one he had woken up in, complete with cryo-pod and techs dressed in the same sterile uniforms as the tech who had awoken him. There were two of them and they both huddled around a woman who stood but was curled into herself, hands spasming into claws, her face contorted in a mask of pain.

The woman, who looked more like a youth than someone fully grown, was just as naked as he had been, goop covering her earth-brown skin. He recognized her suffering. That of someone who was a novice to cryo awakening. If she chose to go under again she wouldn’t have a repeat of what she was enduring now. The first time’s always shitty and no amount of technological advancement had fixed that.

The techs tried to soothe her but she continued to howl. It wasn’t true physical pain she was experiencing. Waking up from cryo for the first time did things to the mind and, for those who believe in such things, the soul. The girl was reliving emotional trauma. A lifetime worth all crammed into these tight little moments. Erik watched, unable to move. He sympathized with the girl but he was dispassionate enough not to intervene. There was nothing he could offer anyway. She had to ride it out.

He watched as she did, her howls weakening until she could finally focus her eyes on those in the room. The screams turned into soft whimpers and her hands relaxed. Eyes still filled with fright darted around until they landed on him, wide and brown. He slowed his breath and held her eyes, willing her to mimic his breathing. Her chest rose in a deep draw of breath, then lowered, tiny perfect breast going with it. He breathed again and she repeated, her eyes gradually turning lucid. When she was able to stand up straight he knew the worst of it had passed. She would be fine. Shaken up for a bit but that too would pass.

It finally dawned on her that she was completely naked and she had an audience. She covered her chest and mound while pinning Erik with an accusing hostile glare. What a strange reaction. Didn’t she realize there were four pairs of eyes on her and not just his? He wondered how she’d react if she knew that holding her tiny breast the way she did only made them look more appealing the way she smashed them down giving the illusion of cleavage. Also, no amount of shifting her hands was going to cover the curls on her mound peeking out from splayed fingers.

He smirked at how prudish and outlandish her response was. This era was going to be interesting if everyone was just as ridiculous as the girl currently scowling at him like he was somehow more of a problem than her silly sensibilities.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will edit later. Grammarly isn't working.

The spacious quarters became constricting as soon as the door closed behind him. Despite how luxurious in appearance, no amount of amenities could make Erik view his temporary home as anything other than what it was. A box to house him until they reached their destination. He raised the holo curtains on the massive window in the sitting room, but exposing the moving light of stars in the expanse of space didn’t help.

He wouldn’t be fully at ease until his feet touched land. Most of his waking life was spent with two feet firmly on the ground, Earth or other worlds. There were only a few missions that involved traveling off-planet. It wasn’t just the ship that made him feel like the walls were closing in on him. It was the solitude. A solitude he had to resist though a large part of him felt it was necessary. It was the same as the last time he was brought out of cryo, and the time before that.

When he got around people he was reminded how different he was, how he didn’t quite fit in with the normal citizens who held civilian lives. In a platoon of soldiers, he felt most at home but there were no more soldiers. There were so few left who had lived through the last great wars. Even fewer left who had taken part in them.

His reflection in the window’s glass did nothing to ground him. Haunted eyes stared back. Brown and unsure. He closed those eyes and pressed his forehead against the cool glass.

Five days. That’s how long before the ship reached New Wakanda 3. He could last that long but not cooped inside his quarters.

There were several common eating areas where passengers could share a meal. Erik knew he needed the interaction. Finding clothes to wear wasn’t hard. There was a closet filled with them. More than enough for five days. Once he was clothed he exited the room. He made eye contact with passengers, trying his best not to glare and instead return their polite greetings. He walked with his hands cupped behind his back out of habit, posture perfectly erect.

Once he had procured a tray of food from a serving line he sat down at an empty table. He could feel curious gazes brush his skin, passengers either wondering who he was or recognizing there was a living breathing legend in their midst. It was always a mixed bag when he was recognized. He was met first with awe then either eager fascination, fanatic respect, or haughty disdain. Such a long way from an orphan grunt who joined the military to gain the respect he later came to despise.

_No man is an island._ Erik had to keep reminding himself of this fact because if he was going to do anything other than shriveling up and die, he needed to get a grip on his needs. He’d spent too many years in the haven of the camaraderie of his peers to spend his remaining years a recluse.

But when the whispers started he struggled to remain seated. He could hear every word muttered. A gift of the enhancement he went through while enlisted. Such procedures were now outlawed. More evidence of how out of place he was.

They wondered why he was traveling with them. They wondered how many people he’d killed. They wondered how he was able to sit and act like an unaltered human being. Wasn’t he a freak?

Erik stood and exited the eating area, taking his tray with him. He wandered until he came upon an atrium, its vaulted ceilings and wide space filled with living plants doing wonders to even his racing heart. There was glass on either side lending to the opening feeling and giving a clear view to outside the ship. The sound of trickling water came from a fountain hidden in the depth of potted trees, shrubs, and flowers.

He scanned the area and didn’t see anyone, so he sighed and sat on the first bench he came upon. So much for socializing, but he knew this was better. He placed his tray beside him and picked up the sandwich, taking a big bite. At least it tasted like real meat.

The air smelled un-synthesized. He inhaled deeply a few times relaxing into the bench. He’d try socializing again. Perhaps tomorrow.

“You promised.”

The words were faint but to Erik, they were just as clear as if the speaker were sitting next to him. He stopped chewing, aware now that he wasn’t as alone as he had thought.

“...you promised that things would be different.”

A woman’s voice. Thin and wobbly, as if she were crying. A watery sniff was confirmation.

“I didn’t have a choice really. Was I suppose to wait around for you to start loving me back...the way that I love...loved you?”

No voice replied to the woman’s tearful inquiry. Her words held such heartache and misery Erik was on his feet and moving towards the sound of her voice without a conscious thought beyond the need to get closer. Something in that misery called to him. He was well acquainted with that kind of suffering and wanted to see its source.

“I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay. With you. Forever.” Her words tore into gentle weeping.

She was tucked into a corner of the atrium, sitting with her knees curled up and the voluminous white robes of a scientist elite around her. She held something in her hands that her eyes, red with tears, were trained on. He recognized her immediately. The naked girl from earlier. The one who had promised retribution for his infringing upon her modesty. Well, she had more than enough clothes on to satisfy her modesty.

In a near repeat of their first meeting, her soulful eyes found his and widened in mortification at being found naked yet again, this time her heart exposed instead of her flesh. She jumped to her feet with a speed and grace worthy of a well-trained soldier, whatever she had held in her hand fluttering to the floor, forgotten.

Her hair was pulled up and styled in a complicated pattern of braids. The elite liked to insert math into even the most mundane things. They took great pride and effort in how they patterned their hair. He’d always found these habits too cumbersome to adopt. There were tiny clear crystals woven into her hair. How did she manage to look so put together so soon after what he suspected was her first cryo-sleep awakening? Though her eyes were wet with tears, everything else about her, from her carefully styled hair to the robes now covering the white ankle-high boots spoke of order and rigid control.

He watched as she gained nearly half an inch in height by stiffening her back. It happened so quickly, the shift of emotions until her face was a placid mask of indifference, if Erik’s senses weren’t so attuned he could have missed it. The only evidence that remained was glistening on her eyelashes.

Erik grunted at the change.

“I don’t appreciate being spied on.” She greeted. Though she successfully kept it from showing on her face, her voice gave away all that emotion she was trying to bottle up.

“That wasn’t my intention.”

“But the results are just the same. I should report you to the captain. It’d serve you right.”

“Like I said, it wasn’t my intention to intru--”

“I don’t know what you people did during your heyday for kicks but stalking and harassment are one-hundred percent illegal now.”

She was like a little hissing cat, claws drawn and ready to attack a perceived threat. Erik wasn’t offended, no matter how misguided she was. Though he hadn’t meant to, he had stumbled upon a private moment and instead of walking away, he had continued on until she was aware of his presence. He couldn’t fault her anger for his inability to resist intruding on her solitude.

He also couldn’t resist the words that came next.

“You people? I’m sorry I don’t know what you mean.”

“Warmongers. Neanderthals. Relics who were better left in the past.” She raised her chin at the end of this, daring him to respond, knowing by the tick in his jaw that she had hit a nerve.

Who in the hell did she think she was? If there hadn’t been people like him then people like her wouldn’t have their near utopia. His people hadn’t only fought human enemies but had also defeated off-worlders who wanted to conquer earth long before this scrap of a girl was likely born. His zip had included this history so she had to have the same information. He eyed her robes once more. Elite. Of course, she’d think like them, she was dressed like them, wasn’t she?

He would never apologize for the life he’d lived.

“Killmonger.” He answered.

“What?”

“You called me a Warmonger but you’re wrong. I’ve never looked for war. I went where I was ordered by _elites_ calling the shots. So while you stand contemplating how far beneath you I am, know that men like me only exist because of people like you. Also, I may be a relic but I don’t have a drop of neanderthal blood in me.” The scientists who enhanced him talked idly as he writhed in pain how the procedures only worked with certain DNA. If she was going to insult him she needed to at least make it accurate. Didn’t her people pride themselves on how intelligent they were?

She had the grace to blush.

“You don’t have a drop of manners in you either.” She snipped, doubling down.

“And neither do you.” He crossed his arms over his chest and gave her his most intimidating glare. The sleeves on his shirt pulled up a bit revealing the dotted scars on his wrists. _Good, let her see why they called him Killmonger._ He hoped it scared her into running from the atrium. But instead of her eyes widening in fright they narrowed and she took a step closer.

“Don’t let me catch you spying on me again soldier or I’ll make good on my promise to report you to the captain.” She pointed a single slender finger towards his face to make her point. “I can make things very unpleasant for you.”

A foolishly brave little hissing cat. Erik only grunted in response, not worried in the least by her threats of making things difficult for him. He bet she made things difficult for anyone who crossed her path. It was clear to him that she was a complicated mess who truly had no inkling of just who he was. He was a master strategist who she was not equipped to take on no matter how capable she thought she was.

It was a good thing she merely intrigued him. He wasn’t interested in making new enemies. Especially not her.

“Stay out of my way.”

She waited for several seconds before stalking past him, leaving the faint scent of feminine softness in her wake.

“Sure thing, princess.” He called after her, causing her shoulders to stiffen even further before she walked completely out of sight.

It wasn’t until she was gone that he remembered she dropped something when she first noticed him. Erik retrieved the square of paper and once he had a chance to exam it, he was left with questions he planned to have her answer upon their next meeting.


End file.
